A Fairytale
by The Cheshire Riddler
Summary: AU. Love can occur anywhere, even between a quiet court jester's son and a bossy crown princess. It helps if there's magic involved, of course. Seddie oneshot.


**Author's Note: **I've been working on this in my spare time; please accept it as an apology for the delay on _In the Kitchen_. This one-shot refused to end. Fairytale!iCarly is something new for me, but I enjoyed writing it.

**Warning: **Nothing explicit or too suggestive

* * *

An Fairytale 

* * *

"_I've come to grant you a wish."_

"_Why?"_

"_Because that is the way magic works."_

There is magic, deep and powerful, woven into the heart of the land. It sings and moves, living within all things and creatures; this country is no different. Its inhabitants have lived alongside magic for so long that it has bonded with them. Eventually people are born with magic inside them, but that is a very rare occurrence.

Usually people coexist with magic, content to put up with its more annoying habits when it produces such wonders: plentiful, beautiful land; gorgeous creatures like unicorns, mermaids, fairies, and dragons; shimmering stars in the sky that sing, if you listen closely; and magic is an amazing weapon and defense, when handled properly by someone with it in their blood.

That is the job of a wizard, also commonly known as a magician. Magic is infused with their very being. It is a central part of what they are, and it is wondrous to see what a person born with magic can accomplish.

But the point, dear reader, is that there is _magic_, and it is everywhere.

However, magic is fickle and unpredictable, answering to no pattern or expectation. And magic, no matter how great the amount, is never to be confused with luck.

* * *

It had been an accident, both Freddie's birth and his befriending of the princess.

He is simply the court jester's son, a motherless child who everyone tries to ignore. Freddie pretends he is invisible, and so he is happy. He passes by and people do not look at him, do not speak to him. Freddie isn't old enough to understand that every child has a mother and that his hadn't been allowed to marry his father; that she had anyway, and so had caused a scandal. He doesn't know that his mother had been nobility, or that she had died bringing him into the world. He lives blissfully ignorant, too young to question or wonder.

Freddie's life consists of running around in the background. The garden, with its expansive bush maze and colorful flowers arranged in dizzying patterns, is his playground. The servants' hallways are hidden carefully in between corridors; they are untouched, because the previous king hadn't wanted to see his servants. The current king doesn't mind. So the secret tunnels belong to Freddie alone, and he sprints through them, inhaling dust and stale air as adrenaline pumps through him.

Everything is an adventure to Freddie.

One day, though, Freddie's father tells him that there is to be a ball. Freddie's father is going to perform, so he will not return to their quarters until the morning. Freddie promises to stay in their quarters and not wander. As soon as the door shuts behind his father, Freddie races over to the tapestry dangling on the wall. Freddie pushes it aside, revealing a door, and hurries through. While the servants' tunnels do not have many cleverly concealed eye-holes, Freddie knows that there is at least one that peeks into the main ballroom, where the ball is surely taking place.

But Freddie cannot remember the correct way. He has wandered the tunnels for some time, but he is a strange part, one he has never journeyed to before. He grows panicked, wondering how he is ever going to find his way out of the tunnels, and pushes open the first door he sees. He ends up pushing too hard, and when the door easily gives under his shove, he tumbles forward. He turns a neat summersault and nimbly jumps to his feet. It's a trick Freddie had been able to do as soon as he could walk, as a jester's son.

Freddie takes a few calming breaths before he begins to notice where he is, looking around.

There is a giant bed with fine coverings and four posts with a breathtaking canopy. The wallpaper around the room is a pattern inlaid with what appears to be real gold. Thick carpets line every available inch of the floor, and the slim uncovered pieces of the floor reveal it is smooth, polished white marble. It is only the beginning of the wealth and luxury displayed in the room; and Freddie turns in a full circle to take it all in. The third time he spins around, Freddie notices for the first time the two girls perched on the bed. He stops spinning suddenly and almost looses his balance, stumbling.

One of the girls notices and giggles. Her hand goes up to cover mouth to muffle her laughter.

Freddie's cheeks burn but he pushes it to the back of his mind. He bows lowly, sweeping his arm in a grand and gallant gesture fit for a queen. The idea of where he is slowly forms in his mind, but Freddie hopes dearly he is wrong. The servants' tunnels lead many places, and Freddie could be almost anywhere. There are a handful of places, however, where if he stumbled into them he would be executed for intruding. Freddie fears that this is one of those places.

He trembles, stuck in his bowing position, hardly daring to look up.

"Stand," an imperious voice says, and Freddie obeys docilely. He straightens up but keeps his head down. Maybe if he doesn't move, they will go back to thinking he is invisible. But the voice sounds again, radiating around the room and ringing with authority, "Look at me."

Freddie doesn't want to, but he looks up. His brown eyes are instantly met with blue, and Freddie swallows, hard. The girl sitting on the bed, her fine gown spread around her, has golden, curly hair that falls to her waist. Her chin is stubborn and her skin fair. Freddie judges her to be about his age. But what captures Freddie's attention is not the kitten sitting on the girl's lap or the girl's fledging, very young beauty. It is the thin, intricately wrought silver crown that sits on top of the girl's head that Freddie notices. He immediately makes the connections—the lavish bedroom, the girl's appearance, and the crown.

He is paralyzed. Freddie has heard many things, being invisible. He understands what the penalty for being found uninvited in the princess' bedroom is; Freddie knows that, for all he is a child and perfectly innocent, he will be executed without a moment's notice if he is found out. There would be nothing anyone could do. Freddie's life is truly in the hands of the princess and perhaps her friend. He closes his eyes and quivers, wondering what his fate is to be. Freddie is rather fond of living, and promises silently that he will never steal another tart from the kitchen if he lives through the night.

"Why, look at him! Shaking like a leaf," a light, unfamiliar voice says. Freddie knows it is the princess' friend. He doesn't dare to open his eyes to see what she looks like, though. Bravery has never been his strong front. "I do think you've frightened him, Sam."

"I've done nothing," the princess argues defensively. "I just told him to stop bowing and look up. I hardly threatened to bite his head off." She snorts and there is the sound of fabric on fabric as the princess shifts on the bed. "Besides, it's not like I'm going to hurt him."

"Well, how is he supposed to know that?" the princess' friend reasons. "He's probably out of his mind with fright. You are quite striking."

"Hmm," the princess muses. "A frightened servant _is_ a dull servant, I suppose. Alright. Boy! We're not going to call the guards on you. So stop quivering and get over here." That is an order, and Freddie has heard and has learned never, ever to disobey an order, especially from a royal.

Freddie opens his eyes but keeps them downcast. He walks over to the bed, pausing two feet away, and slowly raises his eyes. Freddie looks at the princess, briefly, and then her friend. Freddie is entranced immediately. The princess' friend has dark eyes and her hair is piled on top of her head in a very adult fashion. Her face and smile is kind, and Freddie instantly likes her. There is something very trusting about her, that Freddie feels comfortable for the first time since entering the room.

"Hello," the princess' friend murmurs, her eyes dancing with amusement. "Are you well?"

Freddie's face burns bright red again when he realizes he has been staring. "F-fine, thank you ma'am," he says hurriedly. He knows that the princess' friend has to be a noble, to be allowed to play with the princess, and thus very important. He is merely the son of the court jester. Freddie wants to leave. His eyes dart to the hidden door, which is still open. It has been disguised as painting.

"I," the princess states suddenly, causing Freddie to flinch and direct his attention to her, which had most likely been her intention.

She continues, thrusting her chin in the air arrogantly, "I am High Princess Samantha Puckett, heir to the throne." She shoos the kitten off of her lap, and it meanders over to a pillow near the headboard of the bed and curls up. The princess' eyes bore into Freddie's. "And who are you?"

"Sam," the princess' friend admonishes gently, as the princess is being quite rude.

"What?" the princess snaps. "I've never seen him at Court or around the castle." She flips a long piece of hair over her shoulder and adds, "I want to know." She narrows her eyes at Freddie, daring him not to answer her.

Freddie doesn't mind. The princess can be as mean and rude and sudden as she likes, as long as she doesn't get him into trouble and allows him to disappear soon. "I am Fredward Benson," he stammers, wishing desperately he could melt into the thick carpet. He has met other children before, servant's kids, who hadn't known who he was at first. The second he had told them his name, they had backed away and had fallen under his invisibility spell.

While the princess' friend's eyes flood with sudden understanding, the princess doesn't appear to recognize the name. "So?" she persists, leaning forward on the bed. "Why haven't I seen you before?"

"I—I don't know," Freddie's voice cracks. He wants to leave, now. "My father is the court jester?" He wants to satisfy the princess, so that they may part ways and never meet again. Freddie has heard stories about lower born people having friendships with high nobility. None of them had ended well.

Princess Samantha frowns, curiosity not yet satisfied. "So shouldn't you aid him during his performances?" she inquires, crossing her arms over her chest. The princess' friend places a warning hand on the princess' shoulder, but Princess Sam shrugs it off, her eyes fastened on a nervous Freddie.

"It's because I'm invisible," he blurts out suddenly. Seeing the disbelief on the princess and her friend's faces, he quickly explains, "People—servants, stewards, stable hands, courtiers, everyone—they don't see me. It's like I'm not there, because I'm invisible. They don't look or speak or notice me. It's very useful, because then I can go anywhere. But…" Freddie realizes this as he says it, "It's lonely, at times. None of the other children will play with me."

Understanding and sympathy sneaks into Princess Samantha's gaze, which softens ever so slightly. "The other children won't play with me either," she admits abruptly. "They're scared of me. Carly here is the only one who isn't afraid."

The princess' friend, Carly nods. She smiles fondly at the princess and then at Freddie. There's concern in her gaze, but Freddie doesn't know why. There's nothing wrong with being invisible, though his father sometimes gets angry about it. Freddie himself doesn't mind, as he hasn't known anything else.

"You, though, you're afraid of me too." Princess Samantha declares, pointing a finger at Freddie, her eyes narrowing. "But if you're invisible, then it won't matter if you play with me. No one will say anything about it." She smirks as a plan comes to her. "So I don't care if you're scared, you _will _play with me. And Carly, of course," the princess adds, nudging her friend.

Carly rolls her eyes but grins. "Of course," she says, but then shoots Freddie a worried glance. "But Sam, I don't know if this is such a good idea. Fredward could get in trouble—"

"He won't," the princess says dismissively, waving her hand arrogantly. "We'll be careful, and my guards won't say anything. I'll make sure of it."

Freddie remembers what his father has said: Princess Samantha is heir to the throne, and there is little denied to her. Though her younger twin sister, Princess Melanie, is the darling of the kingdom, Sam is the ruthless sister, the one with the head for war, business, and negotiations. Princess Melanie is more of a diplomat, adept at arranging balls and memorizing foreign languages. Even if Sam had not been born the oldest, she is the obvious choice for the throne.

He blinks and realizes that the princess is speaking to him. "—you'll meet us in the center of the garden maze to-morrow," Princess Samantha commands, staring him dead in the eye. "Be there a little before midday, and we shall commence playing whenever I feel like."

Freddie idly wonders if all princesses are so bossy.

The princess then yawns, her jaw cracking, and lies back on the bed. "You may go now," she says graciously through another yawn.

Freddie looks at Lady Carly, to make sure it is truly alright to leave. The lady, though she is really a young girl his age, the title still belongs to her, smiles kindly at him. "Go on," she encourages, nodding towards the secret door. "And remember? To-morrow, center of the maze, at midday," Carly's voice is soft and has an almost musical quality to it; it is far more soothing on Freddie's ears than Sam's loud, impetuous tone.

Freddie nods wordlessly, bows once again, and scampers away through the door. He closes it behind him quietly but firmly. The door has hardly shut all the way when a bouncing, echoing laugh slips through. Freddie doesn't doubt for a moment that it is Sam's laugh. He makes sure the door is closed all the way and hurries off.

* * *

Freddie quickly finds his way back to his quarters.

He gets undressed and slips into his cot. He stares up at the ceiling for a long, long timing, pondering what had occurred only an hour before. Freddie has never spoken with children his age for such a long time before. He has never even talked with nobility before. Freddie slowly warms, but not because it's a hot summer night or he has too many blankets. It's a different, more personal kind of warmth and Freddie likes it. He thinks its joy, but isn't sure.

Freddie slowly gets excited about playing with the princess and the lady to-morrow. For all they are noble children, they are_ children_. Freddie's happiness at finding playmates has him grinning so wide it almost hurts. He slips off to sleep happy, and dreams good things.

"Freddie?" his father whispers as he returns; the sun is starting to rise in the sky.

Freddie wakes up to keep his exhausted father company while he prepares for bed. His father tells Freddie all of the gossip and drama that had occurred at the ball. He tells Freddie that the princess had been sent off to bed before the feast had even begun, for kicking a visiting dignitary in the shin after he had patted her on the head and called her 'child'.

Freddie is not surprised.

He and his father talk, quietly, for a few more minutes before they both succumb to sleep. Freddie dreams again, this time swirling colors that dancing in dizzying patterns. They are a representation of something powerful, something moving and important; but when Freddie wakes up in the morning, he doesn't remember the dream at all.

* * *

Freddie arrives at the garden maze an hour before midday. This is his first official play date, and he doesn't want to be late. Regardless, he has a feeling that if he is late, the delightful princess will have his head on a silver platter. He anxiously stands at the entrance before he remembers that he is to meet Princess Samantha and Lady Carly at the center of the maze.

He has played in the maze before, and though the maze redirects itself, Freddie is an expert at navigating its turns. He emerges into the center of the garden maze and sighs instantly. The center of the maze is a giant circle. To Freddie, it is paradise.

There is a pond in the middle of the circular clearing, surrounding by willow trees with low branches and bushes thick with color, sweet-smelling flowers. Birds fill the air with soft, musical chatter and chipmunks occasionally scamper across the lush, soft green grass. It is one of Freddie's favorite places. He walks along the well-trodden dirt path. Freddie likes how the path is dirt, not cobblestone or perhaps even wood. The dirt does not take away from the natural beauty of the place.

Freddie strides over to the spacious pond. The biggest tree in the clearing in there, one of its large branches stretching over the pond; another branch stretches over land, and attached to it is a swing. Freddie sits down on it, his feet a few inches off of the ground, and waits patiently. He then thinks, wondering if perhaps he should have brought something to play with. He's new to this. Whenever he plays, he uses mainly his imagination, but props are always fun.

Freddie bites his lip nervously. What if Princess Samantha and Lady Carly don't come? What if they decide they don't want to play with the invisible son of the court Jester? The "what if" questions plague Freddie until he hears voices and laughter.

The white picket fence, the entrance and exit to the center of the garden maze, bursts open. Princess Samantha stands there, her hands on her hips, wearing a dress she must have borrowed from one of the maids; it is a peasant's dress, soft and made to exercise in. The princess' hair flows around her, her chin in the air, and the dress doesn't take away from her royalty at all.

"Greetings, Fredward," Princess Samantha says grandly, walking over purposefully.

Lady Carly enters and Freddie glances over at her. Lady Carly is wearing a simple dress, still of fine making; which is fine, because she doesn't strike Freddie as the rough-and-tumble type, not as the princess does. Freddie smiles shyly at her. His heart flips when Lady Carly grins back at him. His worries are erased as the two girls come over to him, already discussing what they are going to play. He isn't even disheartened when the princess shoves him off the swing, claiming it for herself, and makes him push her.

Princess Samantha and Lady Carly friendly-argue about what they are to play. They can't seem to agree. Freddie is slightly worried about their banter, even though he knows they aren't mad at each other. They seem like it, with their loud voices.

"Maybe, Princess Samantha—" Freddie interrupts at one point.

Princess Samantha scowls ferociously and Freddie stops, frightened. "Call me Sam," she orders, pointing her finger at him. "No titles with playmates, you hear? I get enough formality from my lessons and the servants."

"Please call me Carly," she chimes in from where she sits at the foot of the tree. Carly beams at Freddie. "I do hate titles. They make me feel so old!"

Perplexed, Freddie nods. He will never understand nobles.

"And in return, we shall call you Freddie." Sam decides for them all, clapping her hands in excitement. She swings her feet in the air, the swing climbing high into the sky. Freddie ducks out of the way to avoid getting hit.

Freddie rolls his eyes, knowing Sam thinks she is being cleverly originally. He isn't going to tell her that is the nickname his father has given him. Sam seems to terribly proud of herself, Freddie doesn't have the heart to break it to her.

They play tag. They explore the garden maze. They find wondrous new places in the maze. It is their land, their special place. Freddie has always loved adventures, and so do Carly and Sam. They are a nice match, the three of them.

Sam is the brave, bold one, charging ahead with little forethought and always managing to find trouble.

Carly is the cautious, witty one, wary at every situation and able to talk her way out of trouble (as well as Sam and Freddie's, when the need be).

Freddie is the practical, dreaming one, up for anything and constantly lost in his imagination and mind.

They shouldn't work so well, a princess, a lady, and a jester's son; but they fit together like the pieces of a puzzle. Freddie grows closer with the girls, and slowly he forgets about being invisible. Though the three are very careful about sneaking off to the garden maze, word spreads. Suddenly, the servants and other people are looking at Freddie. They _see _him, and some even smile at him.

There isn't any talking, not that much of it, not yet. But for the first time in his life, Freddie is hopeful. Sam and Carly are teaching him about the ways of friendship. They tell him stories about their lives, and Freddie is always curious. But it makes him think. Freddie is beginning to doubt that he is invisible. He wonders where his mother is, now that he knows everyone has to have a mother.

But he keeps this from his father. Freddie knows his father wouldn't like him playing with noble children, let alone the crown princess. So Freddie hides his new friends and new questions from his father; he hates hiding it from his father, but Freddie loves playing with Sam and Carly too much to risk loosing them. They're slowly beginning to mean something to Freddie and him to them.

* * *

Freddie grows cross one day.

The princess—or rather, Sam—has been ordering him around all day, and now she is waiting for him to pretend to be a pig and roll in a mud puddle by the pond. Freddie doesn't want to get dirty, for then his father will be angry with him and want to know how Freddie had gotten all muddy. Carly usually sticks up for Freddie, but she has fallen asleep under the tree near the pond. Freddie is on his own, left to finally stand up to Sam.

"Oink, Fredward," Sam says imperiously, in a tone Freddie knows she will one day use to dole out royal orders. But today, she's just a girl he's playing with, and he doesn't _have_ to listen.

He stands tall, plants his feet, and puts his hands on his hips. It's a brave pose, one his father adopts when miming a joke. Freddie uses it somberly now, staring Sam dead in the eye. Freddie's heroes in the fairy tales always face their enemies and fears head on, and so will Freddie. Sam's like a bully, sometimes, and Freddie would rather her just be his friend, period. He doesn't mind being prodded or bossed around a bit, but this ordering has got to stop.

So he says firmly, "No. I won't."

Sam stares at him, blinking. She's obviously taken aback, because she had expected Freddie to cave instantly. Then she scowls fiercely and crosses her arms. "I said, roll in the mud. Now!" she barks out loudly, flushing with anger. Sam is very used to getting her way with everyone but her parents, Carly, and sometimes her sister—the people she spends the most time around.

Freddie isn't going to take her bossiness anymore, either. He shakes his head. "No."

"Roll. In. Mud. NOW."

"No."

"This isn't a free country! It's my country, and I say roll!"

"No."

"Roll! Right now Fredward, or else."

"No, Sam."

It goes on for a while, Sam getting louder and louder until Freddie thinks it's a miracle guards haven't come running. Sam threatens viciously, but Freddie stands firm. After a long time, Sam suddenly turns away, muttering how she doesn't want to play pretend anymore, and that they should go roll down the hill some. Freddie is standing there, shocked at his victory, when he notices that Carly eyes are open. She sitting, leaning against the tree, and had been since Sam had first started yelling.

Freddie is confused. Why hadn't Carly tried to help him?

Then Carly flashes him a smile and mouths 'congrats' before rushing off after the still-grumbling Sam. It takes Freddie a moment to work out what Carly means. Then he's smiling too, because he's passed the test. He's one of them, now, for better or worse. With Sam, knowing Sam, Freddie can't help but feel that most of the time it will be for worse. But that's okay. Freddie knows the better will be more than worth it, and he's has fun whenever he's with them.

(At the end of the day Sam 'accidentally' knocks Freddie down into the mud, but it's alright, because Freddie 'accidentally' pulls her down with him. They shove mud in each other's faces and drag Carly down to their level when she tries to break them up. They all return home to outraged caretakers who want to know how they got so dirty and say nothing, though they wear proud and happy smiles.

That's the clearest definition of friendship Freddie's ever had.)

* * *

Neville arrives.

He is a noble's son and like all the other noble boy children (and Sam), he's obnoxious, full of himself, and talks loudly. Freddie and Carly don't mind when it's Sam that's pushing them around; but when it's Neville, they mind. But Carly is polite and doesn't tell Neville to shove off, even though she should. He's overbearing and ridiculous, and it's worse because he's smart. He throws his knowledge around, acting like a smart-aleck, and Freddie is thoroughly sick of the boy after ten minutes.

Freddie tries to be nice to everyone, but he only tries to be nice to Neville for a short while. The other boy proves that he doesn't deserve it very quickly. Sam doesn't even try to be nice—though whenever is she nice?—and bosses everyone around even more than before and talks even louder, to prove that she's of higher rank and is just plain better than Neville.

For a while, it's fine, because Sam orders Neville away and he actually listens. But they discover that it's because he's never been around a princess before. He soon grows used to having Sam order people about and stops paying attention to her. He plays deaf the louder Sam shouts, and once actually gets Sam to use the word 'please' while asking him to kindly walk his ugly mug out of the door and far away.

They're all sick of Neville after a week.

Then the impossible happens, because Freddie looses his temper. Neville goes too far; they're in the stables, them three and the interloper, Neville, just talking about what they should do today. Neville, as always, is trying to talk up his own idea while talking down everyone else's.

Neville attempts to talk Carly into distracting a castle guard so that Neville can snatch the reigns to the guard's horse and ride off. "For fun," Neville says, trying to sound bold and mischievous; he's trying, and failing, to impress Carly. But poor Carly is a stickler for the rules and hates thieves, since one of them stole her baby cousin, and starts tearing up.

Neville doesn't understand and keeps pushing it. Sam isn't there; she's already off, taking Neville's idea with her. So it's Freddie who pushes Neville away from Carly and begins to yell. He gets in Neville's face, shouting how stupid the other boy is; couldn't he see Carly didn't want to? Why would he steal a horse anyone? It's a stupid idea, almost as stupid as Neville!

"Stop it," Carly's saying, and there are tears running down her face and she's scared again. "Freddie, calm down."

Carly looks worried and Neville looks scared. Freddie's a bit taller than Neville and a whole lot angrier. There's something in the air, too, tangible and pressing and too real. It's a kind of tension that breaks as rafter overhead snaps. The roof doesn't cave in, but it's a close, and Carly screams as the two pieces of wood fall. She, Freddie, and Neville run out of the stables. Freddie reaches out and takes Carly's hand, and they leave Neville behind.

They go to the center of the garden maze, their sanctuary, and there Freddie puts his arm around Carly's shoulders as she slowly calms down. Sam finds them and wordlessly sits on Carly's other side, her arm joining Freddie's, laying it across Carly's shoulders. Sam wipes the tear tracks off of Carly's face with a handkerchief she had stolen from Freddie a few days ago. Freddie hums a bouncing, light tune his father has taught him. Sam joins in after a moment, off-tune but trying.

Soon Carly's laughing, Sam is smirking, and Freddie is rolling his eyes.

All's back to normal and the snapped rafter is pushed to the backs of their minds, but not forgotten; Freddie dreams about it, every once and awhile, though he isn't sure why.

* * *

There is magic in this kingdom.

It is not frequently mentioned or constantly talked about, because it is such an everyday occurrence that it is generally accepted. There is a reason Freddie is able to sprint through the servant tunnels, stomping heavily, and not be detected or heard by anyone on the opposite side of the wall. A spell for silence coats the tunnels, expensive but useful.

Magic is everywhere, on the clothes people wear and even in the floors they tread on. Crown Princess Samantha's crown has subtle protection spells on it. Lady Carly's hair pieces, carefully arranged into her hair every morning by her maid, contain charms to keep her hair in place. It is in the maze, which slow changes its pathways to always present a new challenge. The Court Jester, Freddie's father, has shoes spelled not to slide or slip; as it comes in handy while he is performing. The cook has a pot that heats up quickly but never burns food. The seamstress has a needle that makes stitches so fine they are almost impossible to see.

All these charms, wards, and spells have been cast by magicians. While they are easy to come by, magicians are not. Magic is all around, but rarely is magic in people themselves.

If you have not realized by now, and though he does not realize it, Freddie is one of those people.

* * *

Neville is back the next day.

And if Freddie disliked the other boy at first, now Freddie positively hates him. Neville is smart—possibly as smart as Freddie, but the jester's son refuses to acknowledge this—but Neville is an arrogant, annoying show-off. The only upside to the situation is that Carly and Sam don't like Neville much either. Then again, Sam never likes anyone, so it doesn't count for much. But Carly gets irritated quickly when Neville goes on and on, and Freddie derives a kind of satisfaction from this.

He refuses to pay attention to the part of his mind that screams he's jealous, that he's scared Neville will replace him. That Sam and Carly will discard him for Neville, like a secondhand toy. Freddie has grown comfortable and accustomed to having friends. The threat of rejection hits him hard and makes Freddie grumpy.

Sam is busy ripping apart a suspiciously familiar-looking puce colored piece of fabric, tossing it into the pond bit by bit. She is again wearing her peasant girl dress, her hair tucked neatly into a bandana. Her hair is too plentiful, however, and half of it has slipped past the bandana. Freddie isn't sure if Sam's "disguise" would fool anyone, regardless. Her bearing, manner, and appearance are too royal to cover up. Freddie isn't sure if that is a good or bad thing yet.

Neville drones on about the life cycle of frogs to a thoroughly bored and spacing Carly, who is watching a butterfly dart around. Neville doesn't notice, absorbed in his lecture. Occasionally he looks at Carly and she nods patiently, too polite to tell him to shut up. Freddie knows Carly well enough to spot the signs that show she's annoyed, though she'll never admit it. Carly is too polite for her own good.

"Why," Sam drawls, coming from behind and leaning her chin on Freddie's shoulder, "the glum expression? You're making me feel guilty, and I didn't even cause your depression this time."

Freddie restrains the urge to shrug his shoulder to remove Sam. He isn't in the mood for her antics right now; though it is true, Sam hasn't done anything recently to bring Freddie down so drastically. Freddie tries to ignore what the cause of his black mood actually is, holding back a fierce scowl. "Dunno," he mutters vaguely.

He can see Sam smirking out of the corner of his eye. "Oh, I think you do," she says smugly and quite loud. Sam doesn't have an inside voice, Freddie has quickly discovered. He has also discovered that she is quite perceptive about his little crush on Carly.

Praying his cheeks aren't bright red and knowing they are, Freddie steps away and glares at Sam. "No, I don't," he argues defensively, crossing his arms across his chest.

Sam just smiles in a way that suggests she's won, even though she doesn't say anything further. It infuriates Freddie for an unknown reason. He doesn't know why or how the princess gets under his skin so much; he only knows that she riles him up like no one else. He doesn't realize it yet, and Sam is beginning to realize it, but he's the only one who can get Sam so worked up also.

Freddie refuses to say anything else to Sam, who remains silent. They look over at Carly and Neville. The other boy has apparently finished his lecture and is mentioning the well-known historic tale of Princess Ella. She had kissed a frog that had turned into a prince; as was the tradition, the two had married. History said, however, that the prince, called Lewbert, had still kept many of his warts, which might have explained why Queen Ella had always been so grumpy.

But Neville pauses on the mention of a kiss and stares at Carly intensely. It is obvious he has been leading up to this, with his lecture on frogs. Carly looks back, confused. She is unsure of what Neville is expecting. Then he leans forward, bringing his face abruptly closer to hers.

Carly understands instantly and scoots back. Freddie realizes a second later what had happened, what Neville had tried to do, and Sam's hands are on his shoulders, restraining Freddie. "Don't," she warns, whispering into his ear. "He's not worth it…and Carls knows what she's doing."

Freddie sucks in a deep breath, steels himself, and nods once, very slowly. Sam lets him go. Freddie watches as Carly hurriedly tries to distract Neville, pointing at random flowers and plants and asking him about them. Neville lets himself become distracted, happy to pretend that Carly is really interested in knowing about the plants. He doesn't get that she's rejecting him artfully and not at all interested in the plants, because Carly is subtle and polite, as always.

But Neville spends the whole day trying to coax Carly into giving him a kiss on the cheek. Freddie struggles to remain indifferent, but he can't ignore his jealousy. He's infatuation with Carly is growing. It's silly and stupid, because there's no way they could ever be together.

"What's the matter?" Sam asks at some point, raising her eyebrows at Freddie. "Kissing bother you?"

"We're too young," Freddie says shortly, and turns to correct Neville on the origin of a purple flower Carly is pointing at. Neville doesn't take well to being corrected. Soon an argument breaks out between the two, and Carly has to intervene. Sam doesn't help her, instead smirks and enjoys the show.

Freddie leaves before the sun is even close to sinking in the sky. He's frustrated and maybe more than a bit disappointed. The garden maze had been Carly, Sam, and his place. Not Neville's. But the girls have allowed Neville inside, however unintentionally, and to Freddie it won't ever be the same.

* * *

The garden maze isn't the same.

Somehow Neville always knows when Sam, Carly, and Freddie plan to meet. He shows up without fail and bugs them. He begins to boss them around, directing them into boring games in which he is always the leader and winner. Sam and Freddie ignore his orders while Carly politely plays deaf, but Neville is too loud and too obnoxious not to be heard.

He bullies and pleads and begs and sneaks until they are all suddenly playing his game.

Soon even Carly is starting to grow visibly weary of the noble boy's presence. It is when Carly breaks and finally snaps at Neville one particularly hot summer day that it dawns on Freddie something needs to change—and soon.

When Freddie suggests they find another meeting place, Sam and Carly enthusiastically agree (though Sam is a little sad she won't be able to insult Neville frequently; she'll have to go back to just Freddie, who is harder though more satisfying target). It is Sam who picks the place. That one doesn't work, so Freddie picks the next one, and then Carly wants a turn to pick.

They end up moving around every time, rotating where they meet.

Life goes on.

Neville's family finally leaves the castle and that's that. Carly, Sam, and Freddie like picking different places to meet so much that they don't go back to the center of the garden maze so often.

But when they do it's freeing, like traveling back in time, because it's their place and it will be forever; it's untouchable, like their friendship.

* * *

Years pass and one day Carly and Sam don't meet Freddie when they're supposed to. Freddie waits for a long, long time but they never show. The next day he checks their meeting place, and there Carly and Sam are. He hesitates, wondering if he should go up to them. He's still angry and hurt that they had ditched him the day before.

Then Sam says, "Fredward, get over here."

He does, but slowly and with his arms crossed over his chest; he makes his irritation known.

Sam and Carly are sitting on chairs, backs very straight. Sam looks far grumpier than normal, for some reason. Freddie stares at them, trying to place the change. They both seem different, but he doesn't know why. He can't tell, but it's something. For a minute he almost thinks it's because Sam isn't breathing, but she is, very faintly.

"Freddie, we're sorry," Carly says for both of them. "But we got caught up in certain matters yesterday and couldn't come."

Freddie frowns, and wants to ask what exactly held them up. Then he remembers overhearing things when he had been 'invisible' and it hits him. He stares at Carly and then at Sam, studying the difference—barely noticeable, their waists seem to be a bit thinner. Sam's posture is much improved.

Freddie isn't going to check to see if their chests are bigger, because he very well knows what corsets do. He isn't going to study their affect on his best friends.

He's flushing bright red and Sam and Carly are laughing hysterically, as loud and long as they can with restricting corsets on.

* * *

"She can't be that bad," Freddie pipes up, if only to join the conversation.

"Why don't you sit through a lesson with her then?"

Freddie finds himself dressed in fine clothes, "borrowed" from somewhere, and sitting at a large desk between Sam and Carly. They had told Tutor Briggs he is some stray noble's son and she had accepted it easily. Soon Freddie is coming everyday, because he is an enthusiastic and bright pupil; and if Freddie is there Tutor Briggs doesn't call on Carly or Sam to answer questions. She calls on Freddie constantly, because he displays a talent and interest in what they're learning.

* * *

Besides, Carly encourages Freddie coming. Sam then puts effort into learning what she calls 'boring, stuffy' subjects, if only so she can beat Freddie.

"But I can't dance!" Freddie splutters.

"Neither can I—that's why you are going to be my practice partner," she explains loftily, looking down her nose at him.

She's growing, so is Carly, and they're both taller than him. It doesn't help that lately Carly's taken to wearing high heeled shoes. Luckily, Sam has declared she will never wear such death traps, so Freddie won't be so embarrassingly short when compared to the princess.

"If I have to look ridiculous, so you do," Sam continues, sucking all of the generosity out of her gesture. "My father says I have to be able to dance. I'm not suffering alone."

And so Freddie and Sam learned to dance; it is a long and painful process, literally, because Sam keeps stomping on Freddie's feet and cracking up every time Freddie gets into the dance. Freddie's in shape, because he's been imitating his father's jumps his whole life, and he takes to dancing easily. Sam's got a fighter's grace, with a mule's stubbornness.

It takes her a while to realize if she stops protesting, the whole thing would be over with and she would be free sooner. When she does, they dance so smoothly and perfectly their instructor cries—it's pride but mostly relief, because the instructor is sick of playing the peacekeeper to Sam and Freddie's constant arguments.

* * *

Freddie wakes up one day from a vivid dream about a forest, and there's a tree in the middle of his room. Freddie, wide awake, stares at it. It slowly dawns on him that the tree is real, and is actually in the middle of the room, growing through the floor and some branches poking out of his window. Freddie gaps, his jaw working soundlessly, because this is utterly impossible. He doesn't know how the tree got there.

He closes his eyes, rubbing his temples. He feels an oncoming headache just thinking about how he's supposed to explain this. Freddie's had things like this happen before; inexplicable little things that just happen to things or people around Freddie. The snapped rafter comes back to Freddie's mind and he frowns.

"Go away," he murmurs grumpily, and then opens his eyes. He feels exhausted again, even though he's just slept for ten hours.

The tree is gone.

Freddie blinks a few times before he realizes the tree is really gone. He sets about getting dressed, determine to forget what he tells himself is the after-effects of his dream. But as he exits his room, he steps on a leaf. Freddie slowly bends down and picks it up. It's green and shaped in a distinct pattern, unlike any of the trees around the castle.

Swallowing through his suddenly dry throat, Freddie pockets the lead and goes about his day, determined to put the tree out of his mind.

* * *

Freddie does have other friends. Once people realize he is best friends with the princess and Lady Carly, they start seeing Freddie. Over the years Freddie's become close with some other people in the castle. The kindly Head Cook, who had never quite been able to not-look at the "invisible" Freddie as she should've. Freddie's learned a lot from her, and gotten plenty of free snacks. A hostler also takes a liking to Freddie, and teaches him some useful things about horses. There's also a lower noble's son, Jonah, who Freddie's become pretty good friends with; though nothing close to Freddie's friendship with Sam and Carly.

Best of all, though, the old Court Magician takes a liking to Freddie. He's old man that's been saying he's going to retire. No one wants him to go; he's kind and very wise, having lived a long and full life. Plus the Magician doesn't have an apprentice. After Freddie runs into the Magician a few times, he agrees to run a few errands for the older man.

Freddie doesn't mind. The Court Magician needs the help and Freddie likes having things to do. He picks up a few things, actually, hanging around the Magician. Soon Freddie begins spending more time aiding the Magician; Sam, now that they are older, is slowly becoming more and more involved with royal duties. She's constantly studying this or doing that or meeting this person. She's at her father's side most of the time, learning from him. Carly is just as busy, preparing herself for her introduction ball to the rest of Court. They're growing up, and busy, so Freddie wants something to do too.

He helps out around the castle; mostly with the Court Magician, but Freddie also cooks in the kitchen when the Head Cook is particularly swamped or when he has free time. Freddie hauls things around the stables for the Heat Hostler and jokes around with the other hostlers while they work side by side.

Freddie even helps a friendly, twenty year old maid learn how to dance, as she is worried she'll embarrass herself at her wedding. She kisses him on the cheek after the fourth lesson in thanks, saying he's made her a superb dancer and he'll make someone very happy. She then admits that if she hadn't been engaged or in love with some else, she would definitely be that girl. Freddie blushes so hard she compares him to a tomato as she laughs. Freddie feels that light kiss on his cheek for the next week and struts around proudly. The brief time Sam sees him she rolls her eyes and calls him an inflated rooster, his head far bigger than normal. Carly just smiles.

Life is changing, but the transition is good.

Even though Freddie feels left out as Sam and Carly take lessons on growing up, on moving into the jobs they will hold for the rest of their lives; he doesn't realize that he's doing the same. He grows strong and muscle from the heavy-lifting he does around the stables and the acrobatics he performs in town, the moves he's learned from his father. Freddie's voice drops and he grows taller. His hair gets longer; he grows accustomed to his body and becomes balanced and graceful. Freddie is oblivious to the stares he receives from giggling girl cook helpers and young maids and nobles girls who pass him by. Freddie still has trouble adjusting to the fact he's visible; he doesn't notice the interested stares the girls give him.

Sam and Carly would've told him about the stares, but the two girls are so busy become young women that they hardly see Freddie. He becomes busy, too, carrying out errands for the Magician and doing odd jobs and helping his father train his apprentice.

Freddie, Carly, and Sam are still friends. They're just busying, adjusting to their new lives, but their bond is too strong to be broken now.

* * *

The Court Magician has a peculiar request for Freddie one day. Freddie's cleaning out a cauldron the Magician uses for potions—which are more herbal mixes than magic—when the old man, sitting in his chair, says, "I'm to speak to the King and Court today. Would you come with me?" The Magician's white beard tumbles down nearly to the floor, and his hands shake slightly as he holds a thick, dusty book on dragons.

Freddie finds himself nodding before he thinks about it. "Of course," he agrees, because the Magician has a cane and magic, but Freddie still worries. He's come to think of the Magician as a second father or a grandfather, and Freddie likes to think the Magician regards him as a son of sorts.

Freddie walks a few steps behind the Court Magician as they sweep into the Throne Room. The King is seated on his throne, Sam perches on the smaller throne to his right. There are a few advisers present. Freddie sees a small group of older courtiers, seasoned veterans of the treacherous game that is politics. These are the king's key people. Two other thrones are empty on the king's left. The queen and Melanie are absent; Freddie knows they are entertaining visiting ambassadors on the nearby floating platform that is on a lake a mile away from the castle.

The Court Magician bows slightly and Freddie bows low behind him, avoiding looking at Sam. He knows she'll do something to make him laugh and he'll get in trouble. So he doesn't look and keeps his eyes on the ground, because he isn't supposed to look at His Majesty or that's what Freddie's heard. He hadn't had time to ask the Magician before they had entered.

The King and Magician exchange trivial formalities. Freddie is wondering why he's even here. The Court Magician stands strong and steady, leaning slightly on his cane. Then the Magician finally gets to his point. "As you all know," he says in a powerful voice that carries around the room. "I am getting old. I wish to retire, but I am unable to do so until I've trained at least three full apprentices. I've trained two."

Freddie is puzzled and accidentally looks at Sam, forgetting that he's trying not to. She's watching the Court Magician, her face unreadable to all but Freddie. He knows she's confused as well.

"Either of those two will be suitable replacements for me as Court Magician," the Magician says, gripping his cane tighter. "I would not recommend them, however. You might wish to look elsewhere, Your Highness," the old man says to Sam. The way things appear to be going, when Sam becomes ruling queen, she will need to find a Court Magician of her own.

The King tilts his head to the side slightly, not enough for his golden crown to fall off. Freddie imagines there's sticking spells on it, anyway, to make sure it stays on; maybe some feather spells too, because there are a few heavy-looking gems inlaid in the gold. "So you do not plan to retire until you've trained a third apprentice," the King's voice demands attention and respect. "Why, then, have you asked for an audience with us today?"

The Court Magician steps back quickly, faster than any had thought he could move. His hand falls onto Freddie's shoulder. "This," the Magician announces in a quiet, definite voice, "is my third apprentice, if he chooses to accept my offer."

Freddie's mouth falls open. Immediately the courtiers and advisers begin to murmur. By now, Freddie has heard the story of his mother and father, and he flushes angrily; he knows the courtiers are discussing the matters surrounding his birth. Freddie isn't sure what the advisers are murmuring about, but he spots their eyes going from him to Sam. Sam. Freddie glances over at her hesitantly, and she is leaning over to whisper to her father swiftly.

"Freddie," the old magician says. "Will you be my apprentice? I know you have magic. I've watched you since you were very young. Your power is amazing. You were casting invisibility spells on and off since you could walk. Your control is astounding; you only loose it when experiencing potent and powerful emotions." The Magician smiles through his beard. "It would be an honor to train you."

Freddie starts to ask for time to think about it, and then stops. Freddie's father won't take Freddie on as an apprentice, saying he doesn't want Freddie to live the life of a jester, saying he wants better for Freddie. Freddie isn't sure what he is to do. He's had offers from the hostler, King's Guard, the Head Cook, and even a higher noble looking for a trusted manservant. But Freddie hadn't been interested in any of those. Freddie seriously considers this offer. He'll think about how stunning it is he has magic—_magic_—later.

Then Freddie suddenly remembers the tree that had appeared in his room. He still has the leaf. Then Freddie knows his answer. He looks over at the Court Magician, who is waiting patiently, and declares firmly, "I accept, and thank you for taking me on as your apprentice."

There's clapping, and advisers shaking his hand. The King even comes over. The Court Magician talks with the courtiers, who eventually come around and congratulate Freddie. But it is Sam who strides over and punches Freddie in the shoulder, scowling. "You didn't think to mention you had magic?" she says angrily, shaking her fist at him. "There've been plenty of opportunities these past few years."

Freddie shrugs, grinning at Sam. "I didn't know," he replies honestly.

Sam knows Freddie well, knows he's being truthful. So she rolls his eyes and they catch each other up on their lives in the time it takes the King and the Court Magician to discuss updating the spell on the moat.

* * *

Freddie attends his first ball.

It's huge, to celebrate Sam and Melanie's sixteenth birthdays. Of course that means that he is never going to find Sam in the crowd, because loads of nobles from around and beyond the kingdom have packed in to wish the twin princesses a happy coming-of-age. Sam, as the heir, will receive more official tidings. From what Freddie has heard, Melanie doesn't mind that Sam is heir. Melanie had practically organized this whole ball, so Freddie knows that she deserves lots of credit because it's truly amazing. The decorations are gorgeous and the refreshment tables are strategically placed. The Magician has spelled beautiful flowers to float in the air, so Freddie feels like he's at the bottom of a clear pond, looking up at the lily pads. The music is lively and dancing has taken over a corner of the cavernous room.

There are so many people that Freddie can blend into the crowd. Everyone is dressed in such different styles and fashions and colors that Freddie's green tunic fits in perfectly. He is relieved, as he had been afraid of standing out. Freddie likes attention, hates being invisible now; but he doesn't like scrutiny. He doesn't like being in the limelight, as much as Sam insists he does. In past he's been pushed onto center stage accidentally and hated it. Freddie gets stage-fright or something similar.

Now he stands somewhere to the left side of the main ballroom, nursing a goblet full of some drink. Freddie looks back at the wall and a drapery catches his attention. It's identical to the others hanging on the wall, but something about it catches Freddie's attention. It takes him a moment to place it, but then he realizes that concealed in the drapery is one of the holes he had once peered through to see into the ballroom.

Freddie grins and turns back to look at the crowd. He hasn't been in the servants' tunnel in a while. Not since he had become "visible" and had things to do and responsibilities and friends. Freddie loves his life now; and pities his younger self pre-Sam-and-Carly. He understands now what had gone on then, comprehends what he couldn't then.

"Why, hello," a low, lilting voice says invitingly. "What are you doing, being a wallflower?"

Freddie turns and half-expects Carly or some kind old woman. But standing before him is a young woman who is definitely not Carly. She is short and vivacious, with wavy brown hair that falls to her elbows and a mischievous smile almost tucked away behind her fan. Her eyes are outline with some black makeup that makes them seem catlike. Her dress is a bright, vibrant red, made of a clinging material that flares out around her hips and flows near her feet.

"He—umm," Freddie says, and then takes a breath and tries again. "Hello, miss…?"

She smiles wider, revealing some teeth and curtsies gracefully. Without her fan covering half of her face, Freddie can see her faint freckles. His throat feels dry at the way she bold holds his eyes. "I am Lady Valerie," she states sweetly, fluttering her eyelashes at him. The only other person who has done that to Freddie is Sam, and she has always done it sarcastically.

She extends her delicate, pale hand. Freddie bows over her hand and brings it to his lips. His eyes dart up to meet hers as his lips touch her skin, and there is something strangely intimate about the moment. Then he releases her hand and steps back. He smiles at her shyly. "I am Fredward," he says simply. Though the Magician has said, as an apprentice, Freddie is now a lord, Freddie is uncomfortable using the title. He doesn't feel like he's earned it yet, even though it's been several months since he had been first apprenticed.

Valerie smiles knowingly. "Of course you are," she says mysteriously, her fan out again. She moves it and Freddie knows it means something, and that the way Valerie is eyeing him means something. And just before it comes to him, they are interrupted.

"Fredweird!" Sam chirps loudly, throwing her arms around him. She's wearing an extravagant, absolutely beautiful gown. Freddie had casted the illusion-wings that are attached to the gown, making Sam appear to have fairy wings that flutter every so often. Freddie flushes, aware of the attention they are attracting, but Sam will not be denied her hug. She is the birthday girl. Freddie hugs her back, patting her on the back. He smiles apologetically over Sam's shoulder at Valerie, who stops glaring at Sam to wink at him.

Sam releases him and steps back, keeping her back to Valerie in the process. "Enjoying my party?" Sam inquires, grinning wickedly.

"You mean Melanie and yours," Freddie corrects her, but he's smiling. "And yes, I am. I can't believe the king let Melanie bring in fire breathers. It's beyond amazing."

"I know!" Sam points to a man walking around on stilts. "There's that man, too, and did you see the acrobats? Your father is playing with them. He's giving them a run for their money."

Freddie laughs, shaking his head. "I'm sure he is. This is a great party, Sam," Freddie admits, smiling sincerely. They both know this is his first ball.

Sam is grinning proudly, and Freddie suddenly remembers Valerie. "Oh, have you met—" he turns, but Valerie is gone. Freddie doesn't know if she left or if the crowd pulled her away. He frowns, but Sam is tugging on his sleeve, demanding his attention.

"Come see the dancers and the tame baby unicorn," she orders, and how is Freddie supposed to refuse the birthday girl?

He glances back once to see if Valerie is still there, but he can't pick her out of the crowd. Then Sam is pulling him along, still holding onto his sleeve, and Freddie obediently follows.

* * *

Lady Valerie's father is an ambassador, and the day after the ball he is asked to journey to a far away country to draw up an alliance. The ambassador is thrilled, as if his wife, who loves to travel. They pack up and are gone an hour after the order is given. The ambassador and his wife are happy.

Their daughter is not, because she remembers Sam's calculating, threatening glare. Valerie knows that though it is the king's order that sends her away, it is really the crown princess acting through her father.

Freddie is quiet for a few minutes after he finds out Valerie has left quickly. Then Sam's tugging on his hair and he's distracted, and forgets Valerie.

* * *

Jonah and Sam have a brief romantic fling; Freddie is glad when it's over. Jonah has changed so much from the boy Freddie had once been friends with. Jonah tries to start something with Carly while he's promising to court Sam, and the two girls team up and publicly humiliate Jonah. He leaves court in disgrace the next day; he is a lower noble, so he will have to marry a rich merchant's daughter and be content with returning to court every so often. The girls and Freddie are glad to see him go; Freddie pretends not to know how Jonah has gotten a black eye, though.

Later a prince from a neighboring country, third after two brothers for his throne, visits. His name is Prince Shane and all the young women find him devastatingly handsome and very charming. Freddie grumpily and obstinately refuses to like the prince. Shane flirts and dances with every good-looking women at court, but after a week and four balls, Shane sticks to Sam and Carly. Everyone knows why. Sam and Carly are the most lovely, most enchanting, and most highly ranked women at court.

Freddie is forgotten as Sam and Carly compete for Shane. Freddie sulks, angry at his supposed best friends, and throws himself into studying. He learns more and more complicated spells, at such a rate that the Court Magician admits he's never seen anyone with Freddie's power, talent, and capability. The Magician is proud of Freddie, and Freddie is happy. He visits his father occasionally, but they're both busy. Freddie being an apprentice and Freddie's father training his apprentice. Freddie likes his dad's apprentice; a goofy boy named Gibby who is very good at telling jokes and is fond of dancing around like a headless goose.

Then, at a ball, Freddie is avoiding any attention and is bored out of his mind. He's practicing spotting the spells that are in the room. He's counted a few lighting spells, dozens of spells attached to clothes, and some to keep the food fresh. Freddie's cast a few of them, as he's slowly taking over more of the Court Magician's duties. Freddie isn't supposed to be and isn't interested in being the new Court Magician, but its part of learning the Magician is getting too old to carry out all his duties by himself.

Regardless, that is when Freddie spots a powerful spell on Shane. Freddie frowns, staring from across the room. It's an illusion, a powerful one, and has been recast many times. Intrigued, Freddie hones his magic, wielding it like invisible and intangible scissors to cut Shane's spell. It falls apart easily before Freddie's incredible, trained power and suddenly the people around Shane stop talking.

Sam and Carly stare at Shane in horror.

Then someone bursts out laughing.

Shane's spell has been covering a rather nasty unibrow. Shane realizes what has happened and flees; he keeps a low profile the next few days and the courtship that had been brewing between him and Carly or him and Sam ends quickly and quietly. The princes leaves as soon as he can without being rude, a hat covering his unibrow as he isn't able to get a magician to replace the spell; Shane will have to wait until he returns to his country. People talk about it for weeks, how the handsome and charming prince isn't that handsome after all.

Freddie plays innocent when the Court Magician questions him, and when Carly and Sam interrogate him. Finally Freddie admits he did it, but he hadn't known what the spell did. The Magician laughs and tells Freddie it's alright. Sam and Carly sulk before they apologize for ditching Freddie; Carly thanks Freddie for revealing Shane's unibrow. Sam grudgingly agrees, saying it would've been horrible if she and Carly had ended up married to Shane, and then a few years into marriage Shane had revealed his unibrow.

They all laugh at that and Freddie feels like a crisis has been averted, even if he doesn't know why.

* * *

Freddie feels comically out of place; his clothes are just as fine, his posture is perfect, and he knows his dancing is superb. But he lacks the confidence these people have. His steps are measured and still manage to convey insecurity. He is scared, afraid of these people in their finery with their big words and politics. Freddie could talk circles around them and outsmart them and cast a number of spells on them, but he is dreadfully nervous. He's gone to balls before, but none so big or grand. And he's in the last stage of his apprenticeship now, which is why he has been invited. He's rising up in the world, as Sam jokes. But it's true.

Freddie hides near the wall, watching and observing, content to remain a wallflower. Carly is elsewhere, otherwise she would have dragged him into the thick of things. Sam would've made fun of him, but she is too busy attending to her duties as princess and heir. Freddie rocks back and forth on his feet, suddenly wanting to try out his dancing.

It is there that she first approaches him, appearing next to him without any warning.

"Hello there," she says sweetly, smiling.

At first, Freddie is at a loss for words, wondering why Sam is being so nice to him. Then he picks out the subtle differences in this girl's appearance and knows her to be Sam's twin, Princess Melanie. The gentle princess is what they call her.

"Hello, Princess Melanie," Freddie replies softly, bowing correctly.

She giggles, covering her mouth demurely with her fan. "It seems we both have previously heard of each other," Melanie says amiably. "Sam speaks of you fondly, Fredward. Or do you prefer Freddie?" she asks sincerely.

"Either," Freddie answers easily. Sam has so many nicknames for him, most of them offensive, that he answers to anything. He knows when people are talking to him, so names aren't much of an issue. "I answer to both, Your Majesty."

"Please, call me Melanie, Freddie," she requests. "Truth be told, I am a little embarrassed that we're meeting so late. Sam mentioned you a long time ago, but there has never been an opportunity for me to properly introduce myself."

"I am glad you did," Freddie replies, grinning, and they continue into a lively discussion.

Freddie has never really thought about Princess Melanie before. Talking to her now, he keeps noticing differencing and knows he will never again confuse her and Sam. Melanie's face is a little rounder, her hair a shade lighter and less curly. She is shorter and curvier than Sam, but each different is slight. It is, however, enough for Freddie, who has become something of a Sam-expert.

_Sam-expert_, Freddie thinks as Melanie chatters about a dozing footman, _how horribly depressing. _

But he's grinning all the same.

Almost without knowing how, Freddie keeps running into Melanie. Now that he is attending more balls, he sees her almost every other day. Freddie never knew winter could be so busy. He is meeting more people than ever during the endless flow of balls and dinners and banquets and feats and private parlor parties.

Friendly faces are always a relief, and Freddie almost never sees Sam. As heir, she is perpetually meeting and talking with people, learning from the king. It hits Freddie for the first time; that Sam is going to be queen. She is going to rule the country, direct it. She is going to be queen someday and their lives will depend on her (Freddie is being melodramatic, but the thought is still there).

Freddie thinks back on the girl who had pushed him off of a swing and almost laughs. Who would've known? Sam has grown, for sure, but she will always be the playful girl Freddie knows.

He and Melanie always talk at the balls when possible. By talking to Melanie, Freddie comes to know her better, but also Sam. Freddie is able to fill in the gaps, little questions he had always had about Sam, by getting to know Melanie.

"You and your sister are different," Freddie says once, "but similar. It's very curious."

Melanie blinks in surprise, and then smiles softly. "I've always thought that, too," she admits. "But I feel that all brothers and sisters are such. The bond between Sammy and I, however, just strengthens that."

Freddie nods, and vaguely wishes he had siblings. Sam has Melanie, and Carly has her quirky older brother.

Then Melanie is dragging him off to dance, and Freddie can't resist. Melanie is a fabulous dancer and he improves every time he dances with her. It's just that after a dance some other man steps in and Freddie somehow ends up dancing with a never-ending parade of pretty women. He doesn't have a problem with it, but Freddie tires after a while—and his feet start to hurt, since many of the women aren't very good dancers.

Sometime during the twenty-third dance with a chatty redhead, Freddie wonders idly if Sam is a good dancer. It's been such a long time since their dance lessons, and Sam had been alright then. He bets she's improved, since a princess is obligated to dance during balls, and there have been plenty of balls in the few years.

"I don't like it," Sam complains to Carly. "He's our friend! And she's got to stick her grubby paws in my—our business!"

Carly hides a smile. Freddie has long since given up his crush on her, for which Carly is thankful. She loves Freddie, but never in that way. Now Carly sees what has happened, is happening, even if her two best friends cannot.

"Why don't you talk to Melanie," Carly suggests. She thinks about Valerie. Sam had been furious and sent the girl away for simply flirting with Freddie once at a ball. Since then, no girl had dared to approach Freddie, even though many wish to. Carly's heard many, many women gossiping about the handsome apprentice magician. Even Sam has admitted Freddie is very pleasing to the eye.

It would be hard, though, for Sam to send her own sister away. Carly hopes Melanie isn't interested in Freddie. It would never end well.

"I think I will," Sam says slowly.

Freddie bursts into the room, grinning ear-to-ear. "Sorry I'm late," he apologizes, collapsing into a seat. "I got…held up." Freddie's oozing confidence and happiness and satisfaction. His hair is mussed and he is slightly out of breath, and though it could be from running here, his red lips suggest otherwise.

Carly inwardly groans while Sam silently seethes.

Everyone knows about Princess Melanie and Freddie, the apprentice magician, by the day's end. A maid had them the two kiss passionately, though innocently, in a library alcove and spread it around. Freddie and Melanie last for about three weeks, before Melanie regretfully breaks things off. Freddie agrees, a little relieved, because he's found that he likes Melanie, but not in a courtship way, which is where things had been heading. They part mutually, but remain good friends.

Sam is happy for a day, and then Freddie has another girl and she's furious. Sam is snappish with Freddie, who doesn't understand what he's done to vex Sam. He responds with indignant anger. Carly is frustrated and exasperated with them both. After a month the girl ends things with Freddie, giving no real excuse, and Freddie is too heartbroken to find another girl—which he could've done easily, as many women are interested. Sam is happy.

Carly doesn't know whether to be pleased or disapproved, as she knows Sam had threatened Freddie's girl to back off. Carly settles for somewhere in the middle, because she feels Sam had done the right thing. But Sam still doesn't know exactly why she is mad when Freddie has another girl, so Carly is still frustrated; doubly so, because Freddie hasn't realized why Sam had been mad and that both girls he'd had had resembled Sam.

Sometimes Carly wonders how her best friends can be so smart in everything else, and so stupid when it came to this matter.

* * *

"Freddie!"

Freddie has been working in his secret workshop for almost four straight hours when Sam bursts in. He almost drops the vial in his hands, he startles so violently. He carefully set the vial drop in its holder and turns, grabbing a cloth to wipe his hands. He's a mess after hours of work, and runs a hand through his hair in an attempt to pat it into a semblance of neatness. He gives up quickly. He frowns, saying, "There is a thing called knocking, I'll have you know—"

He trails off, finally looking at a smirking Sam.

She's wearing a dress as blue as her eyes, that is comes off the shoulders and is fitted to just above her waist, where is flares out slightly. It is the height of style at the moment, but Freddie doesn't know this. All he knows is that Sam's shoulders are beautiful, a thought which is true, no matter how odd. There are other details to the dress and Freddie's mind vaguely registers the shimmer spells placed on the garment. But all he can think about is how much older and womanly and wonderful Sam looks; and why hasn't he noticed this before?

Freddie belatedly realizes that Sam is snickering and his mouth is hanging open.

His cheeks a tad bit pink; Freddie shuts his mouth, embarrassed. He's seen Sam in dresses before. What's so different this time? His mind—or maybe his heart—tries to answer but Freddie ignores it. "Aren't we gussied up," he says approvingly, leaning against his work table. "Where're you headed off to, now?"

Freddie doesn't know it, but as he leans against the table, his arms crossed, Sam's mind blanks as he had done moments ago. Freddie is the perfect picture of a healthy, attractive young man, his sleeves rolled up to reveal capable arm muscles. His shirt is unbuttoned nearly halfway down his chest, far more than decent, and Sam is captivated by the teasing glimpse of Freddie's upper chest. She wonders how Freddie had become so cute, so older without her realizing it.

Sam, however, doesn't let her mouth drop as she takes in Freddie's change. She's got a politicians control of her features. It takes her only a moment and then she is replying, saying, "Another party Melanie's hosting for some ambassador or other." Sam rolls her eyes. "It's all an excuse so that Melanie can see that Socko man again."

Freddie laughs, shaking his head. "Socko," he says approvingly. "There's man that the woman are all after." Freddie can still remember all the fuss the court ladies had raised when Socko had visited, not so long ago. Since then, Socko has come into his inheritance. He is to soon take over for his father and become a baron. He is best friends with Carly's older brother, Spencer, a clumsy knight who is set to inherit Fief Shay, a spacious and prosperous property in the corner of the kingdom.

"He's nothing special," Sam sniffs dismissively, waving her hand. She looks around the workshop. "Anyway, I came to see if you'd like to stop by. You've got nice clothes somewhere in the pigsty you call your room." Sam raises her eyebrows pointedly; Freddie's workshop is disorganized chaos, arranged in a system that only Freddie knows—or so he says. Sam hasn't seen Freddie's bedroom of course, but she has been in his quarters. They are perfectly neat. It's only in his workshop that Freddie lets himself get messy.

He chuckles, catching Sam's joke. "I could dig some up," Freddie shrugs, grinning. "But I'd have to make myself presentable then. And that's more effort than I have at the moment, I'm afraid."

"Neville will be greatly disappointed," Sam says somberly, somehow managing to keep a straight face. "He's coming, too. Melanie had to invite him, even though I protested. Something about being polite and propriety,"

"Of course," Freddie laughs. "I didn't know Neville was still around. Didn't he finish his required time in court?" Neville has inherited all of his family's spacious, wealthy lands and possessions. He has the title of Duke now, something which amuses Freddie for no particular reason; perhaps because Neville, at least when he had been a child, is the least Duke-like person Freddie knows.

Sam grins viciously, "The rumor mill says that Neville is searching for a wife."

Freddie gasps, exaggerating his shock. "No! Oh, I pity the poor woman saddled with that man." He shakes his head, grinning despite himself. "Duke Neville or what, I can't imagine him wooing someone."

"Perhaps he'll try the frog approach again," Sam jokes, smiling.

It's alright to joke about that, because Freddie has given up on Carly; or so he keeps insisting. Sam hasn't witnessed anything that proved Freddie wrong. Secretly, she is glad for some reason. Sam doesn't want her friends to pair up and leave her, as selfish as that sounds. She's always been the most selfish, out of the three of them. Sam loves Carly and Freddie fiercely, and is terrified of them leaving her.

But somehow, the thought of Freddie leaving hurts more lately. Sam is too scared to read more into that. She doesn't want to disturb the friendship they have; Sam doesn't want to acknowledge what's there.

"Maybe," Freddie agrees. He stands up and stretches, his shirt unintentionally riding up, revealing his toned midriff. Sam finds herself flushing and averts her eyes. She calmly thinks of Neville eating, and has regained herself by the time Freddie stops stretching and flashes a crooked grin. "I'd best go get ready, then," he says contemplatively. "Should I wear my red tunic or the green one?"

"Red," Sam blurts out quickly, before she can stop herself. She avoids Freddie's curious gaze.

"Alright," Freddie says slowly, and Sam can feel his grin even if she can't see it. "The red one it is."

* * *

Sam sees him later at the party. It's impossible not to. Sam has a sixth sense, a Freddie-sense that she inexplicably has, it's hard to miss him. Freddie is resplendent in his red tunic. Sam has always favored that color on Freddie for some reason. Sam socializes, playing nice because she owes Melanie for something or other. Sam knows, anyway, she'll have to play nice occasionally when she's queen; practice is always good.

But Sam doesn't pay attention to the two old men discussing politics of a neighboring kingdom. She's watching Freddie mingle, watching the way people follow him with their eyes and whisper about him admiringly as he passes. Freddie commands respect and attention, unconsciously. He's tall, strong, and handsome. His magic also thrums around him in the air, almost tangible. It's a striking combination, and Sam doesn't blame the women who look after him and sigh longingly.

Sam, however, is fiercely glad. Freddie deserves the attentive, the admiration. He is a magician's apprentice, after all, close to being a magician; and the son of a Duchess. Freddie has no titles or real inheritance from his mother, but his mother's reputation has been passed onto him. People remember Duchess Marissa, her gentle beauty, her quirky, well-meaning ways, and her intelligence. Freddie, from what Sam has garnered from stories of the Duchess, is very like his mother.

Inevitably, Sam and Freddie approach each other. It's common knowledge that the princess, Lady Carly, and the magician's apprentice are all on good terms. There are rumors too, less than innocent and not polite at all, about their camaraderie, but Sam ignores those because she's bigger than that. She does, however, trace the rumors back to whoever had started them and remembers their name. She will deal with them when she is queen, if they overstep themselves again.

Sam smirks, watching as Freddie fends off another request from a random woman. "Don't you want to dance, Fredward?" she asks innocently, fluttering her eyelashes.

"Fiend," Freddie accuses fondly. "When you told me this was a party, I thought a small gathering with conversation—not dancing."

Sam shrugs easily. "Melanie's plans always expand, you know that," she scolds lightly, clasping her hands behind her back. The gathering is not so formal as to require a fan, for which Sam is grateful. They have become very in-fashion lately. She hates carrying around the dratted things.

"But about that dance," Freddie says invitingly, raising his brows and offering his hand to Sam. "Shall we?" People around them see Freddie's proffered arm and start to talk.

Sam stares at Freddie, and then recovers herself enough to take his arm and say happily, "Yes. Yes, let's."

Somehow, they remember their dancing lessons, how easily they had moved together; they are easily the finest dancers on the floor. The princess and the jester's son, also an apprentice magician, and it should be funny but it isn't. Sam is radiant, glowing with happiness as Freddie makes her laugh. Freddie is also glowing—literally, because his magic lights up his skin and the lights overhead, the floating chandeliers, burn higher with blue flames that sparkle.

People gasp and point, and then it's only Carly who is watching her two best friends dance, seeing Carly and Freddie move closer.

There is nothing Sam loves more than to see Freddie perform magic. He lets her in his workshop as he weaves complicated spells; Sam claims she likes to watch because she is intrigued by magic, and that's half true. But she really loves the intense look of concentration on Freddie's face. Freddie is taking on bigger job for the Court Magician, and he lets Carly and Sam tag along. Sam is boastful for Freddie, who downplays his ability as much as he can. Carly also tells anyone who asks how skilled Freddie is.

* * *

That's how it starts, because soon at parties and gatherings and balls people are asking Freddie to demonstrate his ability. Freddie hates wasting magic by doing small, meaningless tricks that players could imitate. So he does useful spells. He renews the spells keeping the tapestries in the room fresh, he cast a spell to keep the marble floor shining. His magic glows and spreads, visible, as he casts these large spells, and it strikes everyone. Some people in the crowd know something of magic, and they know how talented Freddie is, how young and powerful.

Word spreads and even though Freddie is uncomfortable with doing magic in front of crowds and now politely declines requests for it, it's too late. People are talking, bragging about their country's Court Magician's third and best apprentice. The other two apprentices of the Court Magician, now full magicians, have returned and are both vying to take over for the Court Magician.

Freddie is to adventure after his apprenticeship is complete. It's an old, sacred tradition for magicians, and the Court Magician advises Freddie to do it. Freddie asks the Magician if he wants Freddie to take over for him. The Court Magician simply says, "Freddie, you are like a son to me. I would be happy if you replaced me, or if you spent your days as a hermit in the middle of an enchanted forest."

It is nice of the Magician, but it doesn't give Freddie an answer. Sam is always telling Freddie he should be her Court Magician when the time comes. Carly supports whatever Freddie wants to do, telling him he should decided his destiny. Freddie goes to his father.

"I don't know what you've done," Freddie's father whispers in a tired voice. "But you are to be the Court Magician, if people keep talking. Word of your ability spreads, and the other countries are nervous. They want to know if you will tie yourself to the King or be independent." Freddie's father has always wanted Freddie to be free of Court, to be beyond it and have a good life somewhere else.

Freddie pales. He needs to go on his adventure, to become a full magician. He doesn't want to decide now.

"The King will ask you soon, so you will have to choose fast," Freddie's father says, setting his hand on Freddie's shoulder in a supporting, loving gesture. "I'm sorry it had to come to this son."

Freddie smiles shakily at his father. "It's not your fault," he tells his father, because his father needs to hear that and it's true. "You did an excellent job raising me, and I know it wasn't easy. Thank you."

They exchange a few more private words, hug, and then leave. Freddie goes off to his workshop to ponder and decide his future.

(He tries not to think it, but it's impossible. If he runs away from being Court Magician, he must leave, and leaving the castle means leaving Sam and Carly. It hurts more when he thinks about Sam, and Freddie knows why.)

Freddie is smiling widely as Sam strides forward. She's got a grin on her face, proud of him, and she stops right in front of him. She's close and as to crane her neck to look up at him. "I take it you're not going to be the Court Magician?" she asks.

Freddie nods, watching her apprehensively, expecting her to be mad.

But Sam smirks happily. "You've grown a spine," she congratulates him, eyes twinkling mischievously. "It only took you nineteen odd years."

Freddie rolls eyes, grinning. Then he abruptly grows serious and stares at Sam for a long moment. She is disconcerted, wanting to know what's going on, and then it clicks. Sam's knees feel weak as she finally faces what's been staring them both in the face for a long, long time. Sam meets Freddie's eyes, bold as ever, and knows that as brave as Freddie's acting, isn't going to be able to make the first move.

So it's her who asks, smiling impishly, "Are we still too young to kiss?"

Freddie blinks surprised, and then he's smirking. It's a new expression on his face, along with the glint in his eyes. It means Freddie obviously has something evil in mind and Sam's heart flutters with anticipation. Freddie leans forward, lips near her ear, and murmurs, "No."

Then he kisses her, slow and sweet and with passion and a greater feeling they both dare not name yet; and it's everything that's been missing in the kisses they've both had before. Freddie strong arms circle Sam's waist, and her arms go around his neck. They stay that way for a while, before a loud voice calls for Freddie. They both withdraw, breathless and grinning, silly and happy, staring at each other. They kiss again, both unwilling to stop. They're content with just simply kissing. Sam is amazed she hasn't kissed Freddie before, doesn't know how she had survived without kissing him. It's different and so perfect and Freddie's quick learning extends to this area, something Sam is more than happy to discover. He learns what Sam likes and teaches her what she likes.

Then the voice, closer know, shouts, "Freddie! The Court Magician is looking for you!"

Freddie and Sam slowly step back from each other. Freddie grins at the disappointed look on Sam's face. "I suppose I can't order you to ignore the Magician's summons and kiss me more, can I?" Sam muses, sticking her lower lip out in a pout. Her eyes are laughing.

"I'm afraid not," Freddie shakes his head regretfully. He thinks and then says, "Meet me in the center of the garden maze in an hour." He darts forward, pressing a kiss to each of Sam's cheeks and her forehead, and then one of her lips, lingering and warm. Then he ducks around the corner, talking to the person looking for him, and Sam is left in the empty hallway with a hand pressed to her lips and love in her eyes.

* * *

An hour later, Sam enters the maze.

There is no one in the center of the maze when Sam arrives. Sam isn't worried.

Freddie has promised.

* * *

Freddie has left.

The news reverberates throughout the castle. Everyone is talking; isn't Freddie supposed to be the new Court Magician? Isn't he supposed to court and propose to and marry Princess Samantha? Aren't he and the princess in love? Aren't they secretly married? Did he and Lady Carly elope?

No one knows what's going on and its chaos, utter chaos, as everyone abandons their work to find out what is going on. They spread the news, farther and faster and farther still, until it eventually reaches the ears of Freddie's two closest friends.

Sam isn't surprised, when someone tells her. Her face shuts off, showing no emotion, because there are a dozen people breathlessly waiting to see what her reaction will be. She will not give them the satisfaction; she will not cry or yell or curse or collapse, no matter how much she feels like it. She had cried enough last night, waiting in the maze until sunrise, for a young man who hadn't come.

_The funny thing is_, Sam thinks as she turns to Carly, who is blinking rapidly, trying to adsorb the information, _I kind of already knew_. As much as Sam hates to admit it, she does have a sixth Freddie sense. She instinctively just knows things, and this is one of them. This morning hadn't felt right to her, though she had refused to acknowledge what may have caused that feeling. Now she knows for sure, and Sam is able to see that the castle really does seem darker, less alive, without Freddie and his magic and his smile.

Carly locks herself in her room and cries and cries, while Sam pretends she isn't devastated. Later on, in the dead of night, Sam uses the servants' tunnels to sneak into Carly's room, where the princess spends two straight days sobbing and sleeping. Carly recovers and comforts her friend, tender even when Sam is snappish. Sam has realized Freddie means something to her and then lost him. Carly understand.

And it really hits Sam, sometime during those two days of depression, that Freddie is really very, very important to her; if she didn't realize the full implications of that before, she knows now.

A few days after Sam's episode, in which Carly had constantly stayed by her side as they comforted each other, Carly enters Sam's office. Sam barely looks up from the thick stack of papers she is reading through. Sam is stepping into her place, shouldering more and more responsibility, and soon she will unofficially be queen, because she's doing almost all of the work now. Sam remembers her upcoming birthday, the last before her twenty-first, and Freddie's face flashes in her mind.

She shoves it away, not before thinking that Freddie won't be there; he won't have a spelled cake or give her or a thoughtful, perfect present. Sam looks up at Carly and forces a tired smile on her face. The windows in Sam's office are big and bright, sunlight streaming through, and Sam's gaze lands on the two piece of paper clutched in Carly's hands.

"Everything alright?" Sam asks Carly worriedly, as her friend hasn't said anything yet.

Carly nods, once, slowly. She steps forward and places one of the pieces of paper down on Sam's desk. Sam sees now that it is a letter, folded over once carefully. She wonders why it is not sealed and glances up at Carly in confusion. But then, out of the corner of her eye, she sees a familiar glint, a faint silver shimmer, and knows. Her heart jumps with hope.

Sam stares at the letter, disbelieving and hoping and wondering. Carly leaves at some point, taking her own letter with her, leaving Sam and Sam's letter behind. Sam is grateful for the solitude, because she isn't sure what is inside the letter or how she will react to it.

Reaching with shaking fingers as the sun sinks in the sky, Sam opens the letter. She reads it, barely breathing and heart in her throat.

_Sam, _

_I so, so, deeply sorry I didn't meet you in the center of the garden maze. I tried to be there, but my magic has a mind of its own. I can't fully control it—I never will—but I lost my grip and it transported me away. I attempted to come back, but it was a one-way trip. My magic is only letting me send letters until I complete my mission, my adventure, to its satisfaction. (There are drawbacks to my power, as with everything.)_

_I meant to tell you, I'm not going to be the Court Magician for your father. After I complete my adventure, I don't know where I'm going. I'm not coming back until you're on the throne, just in case your father tries to press me. I knew you would protest if I told you in person, so I played the coward and wrote you a letter. I'm sorry, but I couldn't face you in person. If you had told me to come back, I'm afraid I would've. If you'd told me not to go away on my mission, I wouldn't have. _

_And Sam, dearest Samantha, I _need _to go. There is only so much the Court Magician can teach me. Every good magician, especially one like me with so much magic, must go out on their own. If I am ever to be Court Magician, I need to master my magic. This is the last step to that mastery. _

_The Court Magician filed and signed all the papers. Technically I am a fully magician now. But I need to complete this rite of passage. This is my adventure, the one I have been training my whole life for. I don't know how long it will take, I don't know where it will take me, and I don't know what will happen. I do know that I'll be back before we're both old, that I'll bring back gifts from everywhere I go, and that I'll always be Freddie. Your Freddie. I'll change, that's inevitable, but you know I'm always going to be the naïve, dreaming, and stubborn Court Jester's son, no matter what. _

_So don't be angry, don't be sad. Please, Sam, be happy for me. This is something I have to do, to prove to myself that I really am fit to be a magician. You can yell at me all you want when I return, and make up for the missed days of mocking me. I will miss your voice. I will miss you. I'll even miss you punching me and berating me, calling me an idiot and "Fredweird" and all those other names. I think of them as pet names, now. _

_I will return when my magic and I both agree that I am done. Until that day comes, I will try to become the kind of man who will be able to bravely admit his feeling for you. I don't expect you to wait for me, Sam. I'm not asking you to. It wouldn't be fair to either of us. I want you to know, though, that I will always remain true to you, and that I will never give up hope or faith or my love, no matter what happens and how much time passes. _

_I'll return, I swear to you. I will never again break a promise to you, no matter what my magic does._

_With all my heart,_

_Freddie _

A tear drips down Sam's cheek as she finishes reading the letter for the tenth time. She clutches it to her chest and resolves to try hard at everything she does, so she might be somewhat worthy when Freddie returns to her. Sam's doesn't doubt that he will return. They will meet again, because Freddie is a man of his word.

If not, she'll be a queen soon. Then she can just order him to return to her.

Feeling infinitely lighter, Sam reverently places the letter in a private drawer and locks it. She places a chain of daisies, a badly drawn picture, and a few other trinkets into the drawer as well. Sam hangs to small key to the drawer around her neck on a fine gold chain and wears it constantly; no one mentions her bizarre fashion statement.

In less than a week, everyone is wearing keys around their necks, thinking it a trend. Only those close to the Crown Princess wear theirs out of respect and support, knowing the reason behind her key.

* * *

The herald announces Freddie and he enters the throne room.

The king, however, is not seated on the throne. He is currently retired, living in a mansion on the seaside with his wife. So instead of him, there is a woman there with the king's crown firmly placed on top of her curls, which tumble down below her waist. She is wearing a gorgeous gown of a light blue color, so finely embroidered that is had to have been made with magic. Her hand loosely clutches a golden specter long enough to be used as a staff. Around her neck hangs a chain with a key dangling from the end of it. Her chin is held high and there is no doubt that she is in charge.

Freddie strides forward, walking the familiar red carpet. He feels his black open robes billow around him, knows that the illusion on his robes make it appear as if he is on fire. He knows his hair is long, almost to his shoulders, loosely tied back, and that he has something of a tan. Freddie feels his magic writhing under his skin, seeping with life. He is so wonderfully in tune with his magic that he knows he could blast off into the sky to the moon or turn the whole castle into pudding if he chose to. Everyone else realizes Freddie's power as well, watching him warily and with interest.

His eyes are locked on the woman's, so he dismisses the courtiers that line the sides of carpet and doesn't pay them any attention. The queen's narrowed blue eyes don't look at the courtiers or anyone else either.

They only have eyes for each other.

He stops before her throne and bows low, with the proper respect befitting a master magician to a queen. "Your Majesty," he says, pauses. He takes a deep breath and looks deeply into Sam's eyes as he continues, "I have come to grant you a wish."

Sam blinks, obviously not expecting that. She frowns minutely, tilting her head in that habit of hers, and it's all Freddie can do to not jump forward and take her in his arms. Sam meets his eyes and asks, "Why?"

Freddie holds back a grin. Sam is still Sam, his Sam, and he is strangely relieved. Being queen has not changed her, and he hopes that becoming a full magician, with many new connections from his adventure, hasn't changed him either. "Because that's the way magic works," he explains. "As a full magician, I must offer a wish to a member of a ruling monarchy. It is tradition."

Sam places her chin on her hand, observing Freddie carefully. He pretends not to notice the way her eyes linger on his face, clean as he had shaved earlier with his magic; his chest, a bit broader and fit from the action he's seen on his adventure; and then a bit lower. Inwardly, Freddie preens. He has grown quite fit in his time away, as adventuring is ought to do with people, and he is proud that Sam approves—even if she will never admit it aloud, her roving gaze is enough.

He studies her back, noticing that she has filled out even more. She's matured and grown into herself, now really a woman. Freddie is absurdly proud of her, of his best friend, of his Sam. She has truly become a queen worthy of praise and admiration, the type of queen she had always wanted to become. Freddie is happy for her, though now he is strangely nervous.

Would Sam still want him, after he had abruptly left her? Freddie swallows nervously, shifting on his feet. He tries not to let his nerves show. He hopes that the letters he sent had been enough to reassure Sam that he had truly been unable to return and that he had been trying hard to return, to gain mastery of his magic.

Freddie and Sam's eyes meet. In each other's eyes, they see a whole other adventure stretched out before them, of a winding great future, full of amazing possibilities.

"Then I wish," Sam says, "for a happy ending."

Freddie smiles.

* * *

They are married two months later, though Sam had been pushing for the day after Freddie's return. Carly, Sam's chief lady-in-waiting and head adviser, and Sam's other advisers, had been adamant, saying that a queen had to give notice of her marriage for proper invitations to be sent out. Sam's people also had to be given notice, so they could adjust to the idea and prepare to celebrate on their own.

All of Sam's prospective suitors, and there had been many, had been disappointed, but they had greatly enjoyed the ceremony. After all, when the groom is the most powerful magician for several leagues, it is bound to be interesting; especially when all of his odd, quirky, and magical friends from his adventure attended the reception. The sirens are a particular hit, as are the griffins and the baby dragon. The merman floats around in a skin-fitting bubble Freddie has made, and the court ladies are particularly intrigued by him. But the real eye-catchers of the evening are the bride and groom.

Sam wears a white gown that's the stuff of legends, with a train twenty feet long carried by dozens of tiny, glowing fairies.

Freddie wears a resplendent red tunic, Sam's favorite color on him, and a huge, dopey grin. He carries his magician's staff with him, a leaf attached to it with a leather band.

The ceremony is long and stately, but beautiful. The bride and groom are obviously in love and cannot keep their eyes off of each other—or their hands. There are a number of scandalous things that happen that have Sam's advisers groaning quietly, Carly hiding a giggle, and some people boldly applauding. The reign of the new monarch is off to an interesting start, and people have no doubt that Queen Samantha's reign will never be dull.

At the end of the ceremony, when Sam and Freddie kiss, it takes five minutes and a few people to get them to release each other. Sam complains to Carly, saying that she and Freddie are making up for lost time. Freddie heartily agrees. Carly successfully chastises them, because she's their best friend still, and the only one who can cut through their newly wedded-bliss.

The reception is very much the same. There is loads of dancing and Carly has a blast. She meets a once-enchanted knight Freddie had teamed up with during his adventure. The knight is handsome and sweet, though he has a habit of standing very still, as he had spent a number of years as stone. Everyone in the kingdom has come out to celebrate their queen's marriage to the new Court Magician. If they cannot fit into the castle, they party in the streets. The reception lasts for three days straight and stretches over half of the kingdom. It will be talked about for years to come, especially the master jester, the previous Court Jester, who had pulled off a series of unheard of tricks in his last major performance.

And if the bride and groom had disappeared halfway through the first day of celebration and hadn't reappeared for a week after that, well; they did have lots of lost time to make up for, and could be excused.

* * *

"_I've come to grant you a wish."_

"_Why?"_

"_Because that is the way magic works._ _As a full magician, I must offer a wish to a member of a ruling monarchy. It is tradition."_

"_Then I wish for a happy ending." _

So Queen Samantha the Bold and King Fredward the Magician lived happily ever after—at least, they lived happily until their children were born.

But that is another story.

* * *

The End


End file.
